


Choices

by Nimtheriel



Series: The Chariot [3]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Gender-Neutral V (Cyberpunk 2077), Johnny being nice, M rating is just in case, Might change, Other, Spoilers, at least for him, chapter 1 was originally part of Changes but I decided it'd work better on its own, like major spoilers, roughly follows Don't Fear the Reaper ending, unrequited love...?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28402068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimtheriel/pseuds/Nimtheriel
Summary: When the chips are down and the clock is a minute to midnight, V makes one final, fateful decision.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Series: The Chariot [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080152
Kudos: 32





	Choices

**Author's Note:**

> Previously part of Changes, now a stand-alone piece due to the difference in subject matter and the potentially different ratings.
> 
> This fic exists because of the wonderful comments I received on Changes. Thank you for reading and giving feedback! It means the world to me.

After everything they’ve been through in their life, V has discovered a knack for telling when shit’s about to go down. Misty would no doubt call it prescience; Johnny would call it intuition. In either case, it always manifests the same: a sinking feel, a heaviness to the air. On the day V is to speak with Hanako, they wake up with their heart in their stomach. It feels like the whole world is pressing down on them. They can’t move. Their limbs feel stiff and leaden, the sheets turning to mountains on their back. Adrenaline hits like ice in their veins while they struggle to breathe.

“Hey V. Rise and fucking shine. You’ve got a date with Corpo Bitch today.”

Johnny is there. Warm relief chases off the terror. Of course Johnny is there, he’s never anywhere else. V sits up, drawing in a deep, unimpeded breath.

“I can’t remember,” Johnny continues, “is this Corpo Bitch Three or Four now? There was that Militech chick…”

V lets him prattle on as they get dressed, secretly glad for his familiar voice. It’s been a long few weeks, they reflect, if listening to the digital ghost of a dead terrorist is comforting now. In such a short period of time, Johnny’s presence has become the new normal. V can’t tell if they actually feel that way, or if it’s simply a product of the Relic insinuating itself further into their brain. The thought is terrifying. The thought of losing it is more terrifying still.

“V, you even listening?”

“Nope,” V says, lifting Johnny’s dog tags on over their head. So much of their appearance has been touched by Johnny, from the tags to the Samurai jacket to the tattoo still gracing their arm. Even this, they fear, has been influenced by the Relic, molded to suit the personality eating away at V’s own. Next thing they know they’ll be growing their hair out and getting a cybernetic replacement for their left arm. The thought makes them smile a little. At least some things are still sacred.

They’re to meet Hanako in the evening, leaving them the whole day to be restless and worried. V wants nothing more than to talk to Jackie. They can almost hear what he would say. Don’t worry, mi cielo. We’re bulletproof. We’ll get you fixed up, en un abrir y cerrar de ojos. If Jackie had only kept the shard in his own fool head, he might be here now. The thought is unbearable, as is the thought that it would then be Jackie faced with the inevitable rot of his own mind. Instead, V chooses to focus on the friends they still have. They visit Misty and Viktor with the excuse of getting their cyberware tuned up, then stop by Judy’s place to check on her and Evelyn. Panam they can only drop a line to as the Aldecaldos camp is so far away. River also gets a call on the holo, because V doesn’t think they could bear seeing those smiling kids without breaking down. Kerry isn’t home when they go to call on him, so V leaves a stumbling message that’s half them and half Johnny. Finally, they swing by the Afterlife under the guise of looking for some new gigs.

It’s achingly familiar. Claire is behind the bar, slinging drinks and swapping stories. Mercs huddle here and there to run over their latest jobs or just shoot the shit. And Rogue sits in her private booth, guarded not-so-subtly by a man whose biceps would put any Animal to shame. V approaches and the guard steps aside, recognizing them. Rogue looks up from her drink with a gaze that pierces right through V’s body.

“V today, am I right?” Rogue says. She slides over to make room.

Johnny materializes next to her, gaze unreadable behind his aviators. V sits toward the edge of the booth. They hope to keep this brief.

“ _Anything you wanna say?_ ” they ask Johnny privately.

He’s quiet for a long moment. “Tell her I forgive her. Think I know what Grayson was on about. Oh, and tell her she’s got the second finest ass out of any woman I’ve ever met. Don’t think I ever got the chance to say it.”

V resists the urge to roll their eyes because Rogue is looking at them expectantly. They clear their throat. “Johnny says he forgives you for what Grayson was talking about.”

Rogue turns away, inadvertently facing Johnny. “He doesn’t know the full story.”

“I don’t think he cares,” V says. “I mean, he does. Cares about you, that is.”

“Oh, Christ,” Johnny mutters.

Rogue swirls her drink, staring into it as if it contains answers. “I think that ship’s sailed, wrecked, and left no survivors,” she says.

“The ass,” Johnny urges.

V stands. “That’s all. He just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“V, wait.” Rogue puts a hand on their arm. “I hope you know I care about both of you, too. And whatever you’re planning, don’t hesitate to call.” She flashes the ghost of a smile. “Been far too long since I got in on the action.”

“I’ll...keep it in mind.”

Johnny throws up his hands and flickers out of sight.

V lets out a long breath as they climb the stairs back onto the street. The sun is setting, washing the buildings in orange. It’s almost time. They look around for Johnny and find him leaning against a weapons shop nearby. He looks good and knows it, all casual arrogance. The sun glinting off his aviators make it impossible to see his eyes, making him look unreachable. V feels a now-familiar tug at their heart. This will end soon, they know. One way or another. They push the thought down before Johnny picks up on it. Instead, they say, “What do you want to eat?”

“Sushi.” Johnny knows they hate it.

V hides a smile, recognizing this as Johnny’s way of pouting. “Okay.”

Johnny straightens, moving closer. “‘Okay’? What happened to ‘this is my body, I decide what goes in it’?”

V shrugs. “You gonna complain?”

“Fuck no. I haven’t had sushi in fifty years. Take us to Kabuki, I wanna see if that place on Broadview is still running.”

The place on Broadview, it turns out, became a clothing store back in the thirties. V finds them a joint near Lizzie’s instead. Not knowing what to order, they get a little of everything and end up with a buffet spread out before them.  
“Now this is some preem shit,” Johnny says. V feels their arm move to grab a colorful roll and tries not to panic. When did it become so easy for Johnny to step in? Johnny, sensing their discomfort, stops mid-motion and lets V take back control. V in turn sends him a blip of gratitude across their link. This sort of wordless communication has become easier as well.

The sushi isn’t as bad as V remembers. They wonder if it’s because of Johnny, or if their determination to enjoy themself is manifesting in better-tasting food. Whatever the case, it’s a surprisingly pleasant evening. V finds they actually like the tempura rolls, while Johnny eggs them on to pile more and more wasabi on them. It feels easy, comfortable almost.

At the end, after V pays the alarmingly steep bill, Johnny’s projection appears outside waiting for them.

“So that was your idea of a last meal?”

V leans back against the brick wall beside him. “What gives you that idea?”

“I’m not a total gonk, V, and besides, I live in your head. This whole day you were making the rounds, saying your pathetic excuse for goodbyes.” Johnny takes off his aviators, narrowing his eyes. “I told you I’d get you out of this mess, and that’s exactly what I intend to do, Hanako or not.”

“Johnny...it’s not gonna be that easy.”

“Hey, we know about Mikoshi, right? Got Alt on a shard, ready to straighten out your skull sponge.” He gives V a rare grin. “Things are comin’ together.”

V gives him a quick smile, though they don’t share his confidence. “I guess we’ll see.”

The meeting goes about as expected. Johnny is suspicious and flighty, Hanako is stiff and forthright. V listens to her speech without saying much in return. When she reveals that there’s an access point to Mikoshi underneath Arasaka Tower, Johnny appears at the bar and gives V a very pointed look. V doesn’t need Johnny’s voice in their ear to know it’s time to delta. They make a hasty excuse, promise to think about Hanako’s offer, and high-tail it out of the club. They make it to the elevator before a warning flashes across their vision and the pain sets in.

It’s the worst malfunction yet. As the elevator descends, V’s head burns with such acute agony that they’re certain it’s about to burst. They fall to the floor, gasping for air as their legs give out. They’d scream if they could, but vomit instead. Their vision is white with pain. Only dimly are they aware of Johnny crouching over them, holding their shoulders. They think he might be saying something but it’s difficult to hear over the detonation happening between their ears. They retch again, heaving up bloody gruel onto the floor of the elevator.

This is it, they know. This is where they die, writhing in agony in a pool of blood and sick.

“ _Not yet. Not fucking yet. Stay with me, V, we’re so close._ ”

They thought they’d say something profound in this last moment. Something about how much they’ve grown to care for Johnny, how they wish him all the best in their body. But words are unthinkable.

“ _Fuck, don’t fade on me now! V! I’m begging you!_ ”

Johnny Silverhand has never begged for anything in his life. It’s V’s last thought before blessed darkness overwhelms them.


End file.
